


My Life Would Suck Without You

by ab2fsycho (orphan_account)



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha!GLaDOS, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta!Chell, Chell is the only rational one, F/M, GLaDOS is a bitch, M/M, Multi, OT3, Wheatley is the one who was hospitalized, also not news, but we kind of knew that already, mentions of hospitalization, omega!Wheatley, sexual content ahead, specifically to Wheatley, warning that sometimes he gets triggered
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took time, but at some point they all wound up under the same roof again. The last time this had happened, they'd almost torn the building down arguing with one another. To say that things were different would only be slightly correct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [BorosPaladin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BorosPaladin/gifts).



> I gift this work to moirail for being the magnificent gamer to allow me to witness their completion of Portal. I was about to yell at them for getting me into another fandom when we realized it is actually my fault this time.
> 
> I also gift this to my matesprit for listening to me rant about these three assholes.
> 
> I thank both for advising and helping me with this fic.

At one point, the three had been inseparable. There wasn't a problem Glados could throw at Wheatley and Chell they couldn't handle and vice versa. After a series of unfortunate events, that had changed. They'd gotten tired of each other's drama, and together the three had a tendency to accumulate a lot of drama. They hadn't been as close as perhaps partners of their nature should have been, but they had been a team. They'd been a very workable team, capable of doing anything they set their minds to. When they had finally decided to set aside their personal ties and keep their relationships strictly business, the serious damage had already been done. They barely interacted at work anymore, and that put progress pretty far behind. With Glados as a boss and an ex, Chell had considered leaving for another career many times. After his breakdown, Wheatley hadn't been given a choice: he'd lost everything and Glados likely wasn't going to let him forget it once he got out of the hospital. If they ever spoke again, that is. It was actually when Glados released them both from work that they accepted they would probably never again be an effective team.

It took time, but at some point they all wound up under the same roof again. The last time this had happened, they'd almost torn the building down arguing with one another. To say that things were different would only be slightly correct.

It had been Chell who'd gone back to Glados. Chell had signed that it was because Glados still had a great deal of her things in her place of residence. Glados claimed it was because Chell couldn't get enough insults, whether about her weight, status, or intelligence. Mostly about her weight and status as a Beta. Glados had reserved intelligence insults for Wheatley long before Chell and he had ever met, and for some reason Glados found it entertaining that a Beta like Chell could think so independently. Chell really didn't understand Glados's logic there, supposing the woman suffered from a sense of superiority as an Alpha. Keeping that in mind, Chell usually brushed off the insults easily.

As Chell made her trips back to Glados's to pick up her things, she began noticing with each trip Glados kept spreading out the items Chell asked for in different groups. She noticed that Glados was basically extending Chell's number of returns rather than getting rid of her and her things as quickly as possible. It was at the point she noticed this that Chell wound up signing to Glados, What are you doing?

Glados's response had been one of bafflement. “I don't know what you're talking about.” Then she gestured to her, giving Chell one of those shit-eating grins of hers, “Oh, that's right. You're not talking. Because you can't talk. You mute lunatic.”

Where had Glados even learned to dish out insults? Chell didn't know, but she sometimes genuinely felt sorry for how terribly put together they were. It would take much stronger stuff to pierce Chell's thick skin. Chell signed, You know I could just take all of my things and be out of your hair now, right?

Glados snorted. “That's ridiculous. How on earth would you carry all those boxes?” Folding her arms, Chell could just see a hint of color rise in Glados's pale cheeks.

Rolling her eyes at the taller woman, she signed, I could consolidate the boxes.

“Look at you, spelling out big words. You should be so proud of yourself.”

Chell waited for Glados to call her a terrible human being, but it didn't happen. Instead they stared awkwardly at one another. Chell had a sneaking suspicion that Glados didn't want her to leave, but was too proud to admit it. It wouldn't be the first time. Chell exhaled loudly before signing, What's the problem?

“Problem? There's no problem.” Glados had always been horrible at playing innocent. To Chell at least.

Tell me why you don't want me to leave.

“What makes you think that? Are we getting vain now? I see how it is. Hypocrite.”

If you don't want me to stay, just give me all my things and let me go.

Glados froze at that, not entirely sure how to respond to the demand. They continued staring at one another for a long time, but then Chell gave up for the time being. Picking up her single, barely half full box, she accepted that she was going to have to return next week.

When she did, it was at the exact same time as the weeks before. She picked out the box she was going to take that day, then turned to Glados and signed, You could give me two boxes if you'd like.

As Chell predicted, Glados responded with a quip. “What, you think you can carry that much? Think you're strong enough to handle it? Think you're tough?”

Tougher than you, apparently, Chell signed. Glados's mouth went agape and Chell left.

She came back the next week and didn't bother asking. She just dumped the contents of one box into another to see Glados's reaction. She was pleased to see her suspicions had been correct when Glados's eye twitched a little and she stared at the now empty box like it had betrayed her. The following week, Chell did the same thing. This time though, she consolidated three boxes rather than two. She watched as Glados's composure started slipping, her mouth twitching alongside her eyes. The next time she came in, Chell half expected Glados to scream when she took the contents of four boxes with her.

The next time Chell came back, she was a little later than typical. When she arrived at Glados's place, she saw two mugs of cold coffee sitting on the table by the door where Glados usually greeted her. From the other room Chell heard Glados shout, “You're late!”

Chell tried shrugging it off, ignoring the coffee and moving to collect her boxes again. She was finally getting closer to the bottom of the pile. As she was consolidating, Glados stormed into the room and declared, “What, you're going to take half the room with you again? Is that what it's come to? You're just going to slip on out of here like a thief in the night?”

Chell dropped what she was doing and turned to Glados. She signed, Why don't you just admit it?

“Admit what?” she spat uncharacteristically.

You don't want me to go.

Glados sputtered, and this would be entertaining if Chell wasn't genuinely interested in getting an answer out of her. Glados ran a shaky hand through her premature gray hair, exhaling louder than normal as she griped, “I just . . . I just,” but couldn't finish the sentence.

Do you want me gone or not?

Glados's fists balled at her sides. She glared daggers at Chell, and Chell's features only softened more in hopes that that would encourage Glados to be truthful with her. For once. She resisted the urge to fold her arms, trying desperately not to clench her fists in frustration as well. When Glados finally answered, it was barely above a whisper, “You monster.”

It was then that Chell knew the truth. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around the slimmer, taller woman who at first stood rigid. Then she wrapped her arms around Chell as well, holding her like she was afraid the smaller woman might bolt for the door at any moment. When Glados's grip loosened just enough for Chell to pull back, she reached up to cup Glados's ear. Though it hurt and she knew Glados would only just barely hear her, Chell whispered anyway, “I knew it.” Chell smiled as that made Glados hold her tighter.

Instead of collecting boxes from then on, Chell and Glados started dating again. Starting over with a clean slate and separate places did wonders for them. As Chell moved on to a new job where she wasn't concerned about Glados peering over her shoulder every fifteen minutes, she began to grow more comfortable with her personal space as well as with Glados. In a way, it felt like the distance had brought them closer.

That at least was what had encouraged Chell to move in with Glados again. What brought Wheatley back was a little sadder than that.

Chell hadn't been expecting him to be the one knocking on their door one evening. When she answered it, they both froze for a moment. “What,” he began, but slipped into stutters as he clutched his bag of possessions to his chest, “I thought,” he couldn't quite put the words together, “but we stopped—”

He was cut off when Glados rounded the corner and shouted, “You!” It took Chell stepping between them to keep Glados from reaching forward and ringing Wheatley's neck. Wheatley cowered on the doorstep, feet rooted to the spot where he was standing. “I told you to never show your face to me again, you little traitor!”

“Oh God, I knew this was a bad idea,” Wheatley whimpered, but couldn't run. Or wouldn't. Chell couldn't quite tell yet.

“What the hell do you want? Haven't you done enough?!” Glados shouted.

“I'm sorry, I just—”

“Do you even remember what you did? Or did they do a little brain wipe on you? Did they electrify you? Tell me they electrified you!” At that point, Wheatley just dropped his bag and held his ears as his eyes widened. Chell turned around and began shoving Glados back. Bewildered, the taller woman shouted, “You're not siding with him are you? Do _you_ remember what he did?!”

Chell nodded and signed, That doesn't mean you get to shout at him like this.

“I think I've earned the right!”

Not like this. I know what he did, but what you're saying is beyond appropriate.

Glados pushed away from Chell, then held her hands up in surrender. “Fine! You handle him.”

After Glados stormed off and left her alone with Wheatley, Chell picked up the bag he'd dropped and pulled him inside. She was wary of him considering what had happened last time they'd seen each other, but he was shaking all over and no matter who it was she couldn't stand that. Leading him to the living room, she sat him down on the sofa and gestured for him to start talking. She had to remember he wasn't fluent in sign language, so she kept her gesturing to a minimum.

It took Wheatley a moment to pull his hands away from his ears and look at her. He didn't stop shaking, though. “I,” he gulped, “I went to your place first. I didn't expect to find you here.” He quickly added, “Not that that's a bad thing! I just . . . things didn't end well. For any of us.”

Chell signed in a way he could understand, How are you doing?

It took him a moment to remember how to read her. “Ah, well. I'm doing well.” He rubbed his hands together, trying to quell the fidgeting. “They've put me on some,” he exhaled shakily, “some medication. They think that will help the mood swings.” Chell nodded, following what he was saying. “They, uh, they determined my second gender.” She raised an eyebrow. “Bit of a late bloomer, they said. Really late. Kinda glad about that actually.”

How are you handling that?

“Alright, I guess. Not sure yet how to feel about things.” He was steadily getting more nervous.

Why are you here?

“Oh,” he said sullenly. He hesitated, making her think that perhaps she'd come across too brazen at first. Then he uttered, his voice slightly broken, “I have nowhere else to go.”

What happened to your place? Everything you owned?

He looked so lost as he said, “All of it's . . . gone. Just gone. This is,” he pointed to the bag, “probably all I've got now.”

Guilt washed over her. After the fallout, no one had been in contact with Wheatley. No one. They didn't even know which hospital he was at for certain. It was anybody's guess. She felt awful for not having checked up on him, but she had honestly thought he'd never want to see her or Glados ever again. Chell sighed, looking at her old friend and feeling for him despite her better judgment. She didn't like him being sad. To be fair, she hadn't liked him very much angry either. She could handle him angry. She could have back then, but Glados had done so much harm and he'd lost his composure and she just . . . didn't want to think about what had completely torn them apart. Looking down she weighed out her options, which was pointless. Chell knew exactly what she was going to do. 

She knew the risks of being with Glados. She'd known the risks even before the meltdown that had destroyed the three's relationship. She definitely knew what letting Wheatley stay would do. Did that stop her? No it did not. Pulling Wheatley to his feet, she led him to the guest bedroom in time to hear Glados calling from another room, “He's not staying here!”

Chell gestured to him, Don't listen to her.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked. She nodded as she placed his bag down on the bed. “But Glados—”

I'll handle her.

He paused again, then nodded.

Leaving him to settle in the room, she closed the door behind her. Turning the corner and heading to the kitchen, she was soon face-to-face with Glados. “What. Have. You. Done?” she hissed.

He has nowhere else to go.

“That is not my problem.” Glados's gold eyes pierced her, and Chell could just barely recall a time when that intimidated her.

Now was not one of those times. She signed, He's my guest. You have a problem, take it up with me.

“When I said handle it, I meant for you to tell him to go away!”

Well, he's not going away.

“I'm going to throw him out. As soon as you're not looking, he will be gone. I guarantee it.”

Do you want me to leave too?

Glados grabbed her by the shoulders, grip surprisingly tight for someone who looked so thin and frail. “Don't you threaten me with that. Don't you dare.” Chell folded her arms, staring at her nonchalantly. The cooler Chell got, the hotter it made Glados. That was a given. “I am the Alpha in this house. I rule here!”

I'm the Beta. Your rules don't apply.

Glados made a noise that sounded like a gasket had blown. “You're sleeping on the couch tonight.”

No, you are.

“How dare you?!”

Look, Chell splayed her hands out for a moment to gather herself together. Then she continued, We all played a part in the fight, okay?

“Yes, we all said things that he's going to regret.”

Chell wasted no time smacking Glados on the forehead. She was so shocked by Chell's forwardness that she was forced to pay attention. Chell signed, He's not the only one at fault for what happened. I'm at fault. You're even at fault.

“He destroyed almost _all_ of my research—”

Our research. I was apart of things too.

“And now you're not,” she said, folding her arms resolutely.

And for good reason, Chell signed. We like things this way, remember?

Glados looked down, thinking. Chell could practically hear the machinery in her mind working. “Yes.”

I'm not asking for him to stay for good. I'm asking for him to stay until he gets his feet back on the ground.

“Now you're asking?” Chell stared at her flatly, hands on her hips. Glados stared at her for a moment longer, then turned away. Walking over to the kitchen table, she leaned on it and exhaled. After a few long moments of her maintaining this position, she shook her head. “Fine.” Straightening back up, she turned back to Chell. “He's your pet. Keep him for now.” Chell smiled at her, thanking her. “Yeah yeah,” Glados said, glaring at the ceiling. “Do I still have to sleep on the couch?”

Chell shook her head. No. There would be no one on the couch that night.


	2. Chapter 2

They settled quickly into a routine of avoiding one another. It was easy, really. Glados had to be at work early and Chell's shifts varied. Wheatley was good with waiting for Glados to get gone before he even left his room. He still had funds of his own that he'd saved up over time, and was quick to offer to help with anything. To Chell at least. Though no one asked him, he made a habit of cleaning up after everyone when no one was looking. Occasionally Chell would catch him doing this and he would freeze like a deer caught in headlights until she made herself scarce. Even then he'd wait long enough to be sure she wasn't watching him from around the corner. It was adorable sometimes, because when he thought he was alone he'd start talking to himself. She wondered if she should be worried over his propensity to have entire conversations with himself, but guessed that since it wasn't hurting anyone she wouldn't comment.

She caught one such conversation when he was doing laundry. “Why that's ridiculous. Wool is easy to take care of. Just stick it in some cold water and it cleans itself. You on the other hand,” he glared at one of Glados's dresses, “are a piece of work. No, you most certainly are not going with the other clothes. Don't be silly.”

Chell had to walk away before she started chuckling at him. When he wasn't arguing with laundry or dishes, he was either out looking for a job or cooking. He didn't freeze up when she caught him cooking. He did, however, tend to run out of whatever room he was in and back to the guest bedroom whenever Glados came home. That was usually during the evenings, so Chell and Wheatley typically had some time to interact before then.

“It's nice, you know? Having some semblance of control over my own life again,” Wheatley uttered one night when he was mixing some batter for a cake. “You don't realize the things you do everyday until you can't do them anymore.” Pouring the batter into the pan he'd prepared, he glanced up to see Chell swaying in her seat and kicking her feet back and forth. “You're really excited for cake, aren't you?” She nodded happily. “Glad to see that's still a thing you get excited over, seeing it's one of the few things I'm good for.” Sliding the pan into the preheated oven, he set the timer and proceeded to clean up the kitchen.

Then the front door opened. Wheatley looked up, wide-eyed and stopping mid-movement. Chell saw his shoulders start to shake and began waving for him to go ahead and run for cover. He shifted from foot to foot at first, looking for somewhere to put what it was he was holding. When she took it out of his hands, he took off for his room. Just as she moved to stand where he was previously, Glados entered the kitchen. She paused as she looked around at the not completely spotless kitchen and asked, “You're baking?” Chell smiled and nodded without thinking. Moving to continue cleaning what Wheatley left behind, Glados set her keys and purse-wallet (Chell was never sure what to call it) in a ceramic bowl on the counter. Glancing up every now and then to look at her, Chell became increasingly aware of Glados watching her. After rinsing out the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher, Chell saw Glados lean on the counter with one hand slowly and suspiciously. “What are you baking?”

Cake, Chell signed when her hands were free.

“Huh,” Glados murmured. “Chell?” She turned to look at her girlfriend. “You've never baked a day in your life. You've never cooked.”

Chell was still for a moment. Then she tried to give her the most innocent smile she possessed and held up her hands to sign, Surprise.

“Ha ha,” Glados said. She started helping Chell clean up and was quiet for a moment. Then she asked, “The moron came out of his hole, didn't he?” Chell glared at the name Glados had given Wheatley. Glados shrugged. “What? It's not like it's a lie.”

Chell finished whatever it was she was doing, then signed, Of course he came out. He can't stay in his room all day, you know.

Glados was quiet for a few moments. At first, Chell didn't think she would say anything else on the subject. Then she caught Glados saying, “I've steadily grown okay with finding a random dead body in my household. Provided it's his dead body, at least.” Chell turned around and smacked Glados on the arm before putting her hands on her hips and glaring. Rubbing the spot she'd smacked, Glados asked, “Now what did you do that for?”

That was incredibly rude, Chell signed.

“It's just an opinion,” Glados declared. “Everyone has an opinion.”

My opinion is that you're being an asshole.

“You are very defensive of the little twerp. I don't like it,” Glados declared. “Perhaps I'll pay him a visit later.”

Leave him alone. He's not hurting anything.

“Yet.”

Days would pass like this, Glados and Chell arguing over Wheatley's presence and Wheatley doing his best to stay out of everyone's way. He succeeded almost the whole time. The first time Wheatley and Glados started interacting with one another was not nearly as nightmarish as Chell would have thought it was.

Chell didn't get sick easily, but when she did get sick she looked like death. It was on a weekend she and Glados were planning to go out that she fell ill as well. She'd simply woken up with a raging fever and body aches the likes of which she'd never experienced. She tried to get up, but it hurt too much. Glados was already up and out of the room, but it seemed that as soon as Chell tried to get up to join her she materialized at her side to push her back into bed. “You have a fever. Don't even think about getting out of bed.”

Chell argued, but weakly. She signed, We had plans.

“Indeed. But you're sick. You're to stay in bed until you're better.”

The thought of staying in bed had been nice. Very nice. But Chell signed anyway, I can't stay in bed all day.

“Can and will,” Glados declared. She brushed some of Chell's hair out of her face before leaning down and kissing her forehead. Chell smiled at the gesture as Glados stood up and retrieved a coat from her closet. Then she called out, “Hey idiot!” Chell's eyes narrowed at Glados, listening out for Wheatley's response. They could hear his door crack open, but he gave no other reply. Glados took that as an invitation to continue speaking. “If you want to make yourself useful and regain some of my favor,” she tilted her head and muttered as she buttoned up her coat, “albeit not much,” she then continued to address Wheatley, “take care of Chell. Make sure she stays in bed.”

Chell signed to Glados, Where are you going?

“We're out of meds. And soap, oddly enough. Figured I'd make a grocery run. I'll be back soon,” she said.

Once she was gone, Chell heard Wheatley's door creak open further and the man inched out of his room and into hers. When he saw her, his face fell a bit. Looking pitiful, he said, “Sorry, but you do look pretty bad.” Chell flicked him off, which made him straighten up and grimace a little. She chuckled at his almost devastated, “Well, that was rude.” Her only regret in chuckling was that her throat hurt a great deal more than usual. After a pause, he said, “I don't suppose you'd like a glass of water or something. Tea or coffee maybe?”

Chell shook her head, then signed, Water's fine.

“Good,” he said, nodding. “I'll see if I can fix you up something equally warm as tea or coffee but less caffeinated. Might help, too.” He left to retrieve the glass of water. When he returned, she almost downed the whole glass in one go. By the time he returned with a second cup, she was ready to go back to sleep. “Need anything else? I'll fix soup or something for when you wake up.” She nodded, thanking him. “Tissues? I don't know, classical music?” She reached up and put a hand over his mouth. When she pulled her hand away, he just nodded. As she went back to sleep, she felt him grasp her hand for a moment. He squeezed it before leaving her to rest.

:)

When Glados got home, she stepped into the kitchen with the groceries to find Wheatley frozen with a knife in one hand and a carrot in the other. She was about to drop everything and pull out her own knife, which she kept in its own compartment in her purse, when she realized he was just chopping vegetables up for the pot of soup boiling behind him. He stayed stock still as she approached slowly, her eyes still fixed on him like he was going to assault her. Setting the groceries on the counter just as slowly, the lingering silence seemed to intensify.

Then Glados rolled her eyes. “Put the knife down.”

“Sorry!” Wheatley cried, as if realizing he'd been holding the knife in a semi-menacing manner for the first time. She saw the sweat on his temples then as he set both vegetable and kitchen utensil down and backed away from the cutting board. “I was, uh, I was just . . . soup. Soup for our girl in there.”

“Our girl?”

“Your girl! For Chell. Cooking for Chell.” He continued to grow more and more nervous in Glados's presence, hands wringing so much his knuckles were white and his shoulders shook.

Glados put her hands on her hips and looked at the remnants of the ingredients he'd cut and added to the soup before. Judging by the smell of the broth, he used chicken stock. Celery, cilantro, noodles. He was making homemade chicken noodle. Lifting an eyebrow, she asked, “Where's the chicken?”

“In the oven.” His voice was small, but at least he was answering her instead of staring at her like the idiot he was.

“Why is it in the oven?”

“Baking is healthier.”

She snorted. “If you say so.” She proceeded to unpack the groceries, pulling out additional food and the medicine Chell required. Moving to the cupboard to grab a glass, she noticed that Wheatley still hadn't resumed cooking. “Continue,” she uttered. A chortle escaped her at how he bounced right back into action at her word. “She's sleeping well?” she asked, concerned solely for Chell's well being.

And also garnering some entertainment from the way Wheatley jumped to answer her. “Well. Yes, well. As well as she can. Ill, that is.” Funny. It was like the idiot was trying not to provoke her. That was cute. Filling the glass with water, she caught another scent that made her stop what she was doing and inhale. The hairs on her neck bristled as her spine straightened. Tilting her head, she turned a gimlet stare on Wheatley. He didn't seem to notice that she was looking at him. Setting down what was in her hands, she took a few quiet steps behind him. Stopping behind him, she leaned forward the slightest bit and sniffed his hair. This made the man drop the spoon he was using to stir into the pot, splashing some of the broth on himself. “Ouch!” he squealed, sidestepping and dodging out of her reach. “What are you doing?”

His shoulders were shaking and he was slightly hunched over. Like a prey animal. Glados chuckled again. Who knew the idiot could be so entertaining when he was that intimidated by her? “What's your gender?” she asked, feeling the points of her fangs forming in her mouth. She kept her lips closed to conceal them.

“Uh . . . male?”

Glados squinted at Wheatley. “A, that's your sex, not your gender. B, I meant your second gender.”

“Uh . . .,” he was wringing his hands again, looking everywhere but at her. “I don't . . . I'm not—”

“Oh spit it out, you moron,” she declared, leaning on the counter.

There was a beat before his demeanor changed entirely at the last word. Suddenly, his hands weren't wringing but clenching at his sides. His shoulders weren't shaking and he wasn't hunched over in fear. Rather, he was leaning forward and glaring, brow pinched as he alliterated, “I am not a moron,” through gritted teeth. If it weren't for the scent Glados was picking up on, she probably would have tried to throw him out right now. As it was, he did not register as a viable threat. Which was strange, because he'd certainly been a threat before. Perhaps the stay in the hospital truly had helped him. She doubted it. He interrupted her thoughts with, “And I'm not discussing that with you.”

The very fact that he didn't want to discuss answered the question if not for the scent. Raising her eyebrows and turning away, she uttered, “Alright.” Then she picked up the glass of water and medicine and proceeded toward the bedroom. She could feel him calming down as she started to leave. He tensed again when she turned to ask, “Is there garlic in that soup?”

The tenseness in his muscles dissipated, but a suspicion lit in his eyes. “Why?”

“Chell's allergic to it.”

He transitioned from suspicious to mortified in .003 seconds. “Seriously?”

“No, you idiot,” she said, turning to leave. “You're gonna give yourself a heart attack with nerves like that.”

She heard him start grumbling to himself even as she went further down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This OT3 is my (not)guilty pleasure. I can't help myself. I would apologize for my continued use of ABO Dynamics, but I just . . . love them. I can remember not getting why anyone enjoyed them, but now I see the light and must ask forgiveness for my wayward wandering.


End file.
